The Strife Murder Case
by Xescay
Summary: A dead million-dollar heir. A former yakuza. Two doctors. Who commited the crime? Join Angeal and Sephiroth as they unravel this case! Shounen-ai and AU. Read and review, please!
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!

WARNING: POSSIBLE FUTURE SHOUNEN-AI/YAOI!

The idea for this story came to me after watching Bones and Castle...

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><p>The day was young. The skies were filled with the pale pinks and yellows of the early morn. Ravens flocked and flew to the east, hiding the magnificent orange sun with their black blanket of flesh and feathers. Dark clouds gathered ominously in the west, promising a great tempest. The cleaning lady frowned when she saw them. It was far too late in the year for a storm. She shook her head sadly. The weather had been changing recently. Rolling her sleeves up, she shook her head and muttered under her breath. The world was ending. It had to be. She walked on, saying barely audible things as she went.<p>

The building was impressive. Its walls were made of some kind of dark, warm stone. Finely carved stone arches supported the roof. Stone dragons defended the doors and windows from unwanted visitors, their vicious teeth protruding from grey gums. The tables and chairs were made of mahogany; their warm colours giving the mansion a less cold feel. The lady stopped a while to admire the view. The rolling ocean seemed almost alive. She smiled sadly. The young master never had enough time to just stop and enjoy the simpler things in life, did he? She walked onward. One day, she promised herself. One day, she would make the young master slow down and relax for a little while. Even if she lost her job because of it.

She walked into a dimly lit corridor. The master had always despised this passage for some reason. Perhaps he didn't like the faint reminders of his past. She strode past the portraits of the past masters of the building. Their last names were all the same – Strife. As she walked toward the end of the hall, more light spilled into the wide space. Finally, she passed the portrait of the current owner, Cloud Strife, before entering the grand hall. It was grand sort of place, with mosaic patterns on the roof and a Renaissance-style fresco on the walls. A long mahogany table sat in the centre of the wide hall. Despite the table's length, there were only two chairs, one on either side. The cleaner pondered briefly. If the young master rarely had any guests, then why were there always two seats at the table? Faintly in her mind, she already knew the answer. She just didn't want to admit it.

She wandered for a while longer; drinking in the finery the young master always had, but took for granted, before finally striding to the master's room. She gasped as she entered the room. It was not because of the simple magnificence of the room. It was not because of the style and modernity of the furniture. It was, instead, because of the unmoving body on the centre of the bed. The master's golden hair was tussled, but was still capable of retaining its impossible spikes. It was not everyday the master had the time to sleep in. Smiling gently, the maid pulled the sheets over the slumbering figure. It was then when she noticed the strange circular mark on the young man's neck. Leaning closer, she gingerly touched the livid discolouring, before drawing back quickly, as if she had been burnt. She glanced fearfully at the sleeping man, finally noting his skin's unnatural paleness. She screamed. One of the guards came running to the young master's room and affirmed her fears. The young man had died. The police were contacted, and thus began what was named the 'Strife Murder Case'.

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><p>The Strife Murder Case: Prologue<p>

Fin.

Please review and tell me what you think of it so far! Criticism is welcome too. I want to learn to become a better writer! I'm so sorry that this chapter's so short. The next one will be longer! I promise!


	2. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: LOOK AT FIRST CHAPTER

WARNING: POSSIBLE FUTURE SHOUNEN-AI/YAOI

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><p>The room was dimly lit. The weak lights cast a pale yellow glow across the otherwise dark room. In the centre of the gloomy room sat a tall silver-haired man. His feet were crossed and lay atop the cheap desk in front of him. His hair was tied loosely behind him. In his hand was a cigarette, which had stopped glowing a long time ago. The air was filled with the stench of smoke. This was not helped by the fact that there were no windows. Beside the man's table was a tall bottle of scotch. Its contents had disappeared an age ago, but the man never bothered to throw away the empty flask. The tabletop was marked by a countless number of ancient coffee stains. Creamy folders littered the floor around him, some full to bursting, and others close to empty.<p>

"Seph, you _really_ need to stop sleeping here," a dark-haired man picked his way through the trash. In his hands was another off-white file. This one was labeled 'Strife Murder'. "Seph? Sephiroth? Hey, Seph, wake up."

He gently shook the other man's shoulder. Sephiroth stirred slightly, his head raising up a bit, before falling back down. The black-haired man, Angeal, sighed and smiled gently. Why didn't Seph ever give himself time to rest? He took off his coat and draped it over the immobile figure. Ah well, he could do his work without his friend for a while. Leaning back on his chair, he carefully read the details of the murder. The victim, Cloud Strife, had been found by one of his maids in the morning. He had been laying facedown on his bed. The maid, thinking that he was asleep, had gone to pull the sheets over him, when she had spotted a strange mark in the back of his neck. She had then leaned over the body to touch it. That was when she realized that the victim was dead. The man grimaced. It must have been such a shock to her. He glanced at the unmoving man sitting beside him. Sephiroth was still asleep. When had he come? Heck, when did he sleep? Pulling his lukewarm coffee closer to him, he sighed and closed his eyes. He'd just rest his eyes for a bit. Yeah, that sounded like a nice idea…

_The wind was whipping about. His hair was being blown into the air by the abnormally strong breezes. In his hand was a gun, a revolver. There were embers flying about. The fire behind him was strong, and he could its heat, despite him being several metres away. In front of him was a young boy with dark hair. Blood pooled around his body. He ran toward the motionless child, holding him close and trying to awaken the boy from his sleep. The body was cold, deathly so, but still he persevered, shaking him gently to stir him. His efforts were to in vain, and he knew it. He just didn't want to admit that he had failed, that he had come late. He screamed to the midnight sky. Why? Why did he have to lose his family again? Why the boy? Dawn was arising already, but he could not feel the sun's warmth. Instead, he felt a deep hatred born within him. He felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, only to be replaced by a second one, one made by an unskilled hand. He felt as if that second heart was filled not with love, but rather, with a loathing so strong he had previously thought it not possible. Slowly, he staggered to his feet. They would perish, those people who had killed the child. The yakuza would fall. It was vengeance. For the sake of that one child. His son._

His eyes flew open and he awoke with a start. He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the pain he felt. Why did he have that dream again? Maybe Seph was right. Maybe he should visit the psychologist. Maybe he was still 'suffering from the shock'. He shook his head slowly. No. Shrinks _pretend_ to understand and know everything, but in the end, everything they say is just theory.

"Had that dream again?" Sephiroth asked as he handed Angeal a steaming cup of coffee. The bitter-sweet aroma of the beverage filled the room, masking the acrid smoke stench that had previously permeated the air. "Really, I think you should go talk to a shrink or something."

The dark haired man sighed and ran a hand through his tresses. "I know what you think, but I don't want to rely on a shrink. I want to help myself."

"You never change, do you?" Sephiroth seated himself at his desk. "Well then, good luck."

Angeal nodded slightly. "Anyway, we've got a new case."

"And who might the unfortunate victim be?"

"Cloud Strife. He was the sole heir to the Strife throne right until he died."

Sephiroth raised an elegant eyebrow. "So, money's the motive?"

The other man nodded. "Yeah, it seems so. For now, anyway."

"Last seen location?"

"No idea. That's why we question the suspects, Seph."

"True. Suspects?"

Angeal sighed. "You know what? Let's just get in the car, and I'll fill you in on everything on the way."

"Sounds like a good idea."

They filed out of the cramped room, glad to be out of the stuffy space. As Angeal turned to closed the door, he took a quick glance of everything. Nothing ever changed here. Sephiroth's table was as messy as it had been for the past ten years or so. The rusty coffee machine had been there from the day they arrived. The minibar had been there for an age too. Frowning, he tried to recollect when they had gotten that, and found that he couldn't remember. Ah, maybe old age was catching up with him.

"Angeal, hurry up!" Sephiroth called from down the road. Nodding, the dark haired man shut the door and locked it. He half-jogged-half-walked to the car and hopped in. The car stunk of a mixture of booze and cigarette smoke. Wincing, he began listing the suspects. Hopefully, the ride to the police station would be shorter than normal.

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><p>I can't believe I made Angeal and Sephiroth so OOC. Please forgive me.<p>

So, who do you think the suspects are?

Please review! It keeps my muses happy!

Thanks for reading!

Criticism welcome! Please help me to improve my writing!


	3. Chapter 2

I'm sorry I haven't updated anything in a while! I had homework (why do the holidays have to end so quickly?) Anyhow, enjoy~! ^^

DISCLAIMER: SEE FIRST CHAPTER

WARNING: SHOUNEN-AI

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><p>Angeal looked the whiteboard up and down for the millionth time that day. He glanced at his notes, before looking at the board again. He frowned. Something was off.<p>

"Seph, so they said that Gainsborough took Strife home after he got super-drunk, right?"

The silver haired man nodded. "But they say that they reckon Fair killed the guy, for his money. Both Gainsborough and Lockhart said that Fair was a former yakuza."

"But then Fair said that he loved Strife, and would never do anything like that. Rhapsodos said the same thing about Fair."

"Fair _did_ admit to being a former yakuza…"

"He also said that killing people with poison wasn't his style. That's true enough – it's too 'underhanded' for them," Angeal made quotation marks in the air with his hands as he said 'underhanded'. "Maybe he poisoned Strife to throw us off his tracks…"

"Hey, don't go assuming things just because he's a former yakuza. We all know how much you hate them, but please Angeal, don't go accusing him just because of his past," Sephiroth pleaded.

The other man nodded slightly, before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. Sephiroth was right. He _was_ accusing the boy because of his questionable past. But… Leopards can't change their spots, right? So, why had this one?

"Why did Fair turn his life around? From what I hear, the life of the common yakuza is pretty rewarding, if you know how to do everything right," the man spoke his thoughts aloud.

"Who knows," Sephiroth shrugged. "Maybe we should ask him."

Angeal shook his head. "No. I'm not sure I really want to know."

"If you say so…" his companion heaved himself off the chair. "Well then, I'll see you tomorrow, Angeal."

"Yeah…" came the distant reply. Sighing, the man leaned his head on the desk tiredly and stared blankly at the whiteboard once more. His tongue stuck out of his mouth as he attempted to figure out the missing piece of the puzzle. His eyelids began to droop as his mind wandered. Who _was_ this Zack Fair? Did he have anything to do with that… _murder_ seven years ago?

_The floor was cold and slimy. He grimaced as a noxious stench filled his nose. This place was so disgusting. He tried to stand up, but found that his hands and feet were bound with rope. He struggled against the strong cords, but they began to dig into his flesh. Sighing in defeat, he stopped and looked about. There was a small fishing knife just across the room! He slid across the slippery wood and grasped for the silver blade. He hissed as the knife slipped and grazed the soft flesh between his fingers. Why did it have to sting so much? He fumbled for the blade again, and succeeded on the third try. Third time lucky, he thought to himself as he sawed the ropes that bound him. He glanced to the side and noticed a gun. These guys were idiots, thinking that he would not see it. Suddenly, he lifted his head and sniffed the air. What was that stench? He frowned. Was that… smoke? Panicked voices shouted beyond the wooden door. Why was there smoke on a ship? He ran to the exit, grabbing the revolver on the way, and yanked the door open. _

_"Fair!" Someone shouted. "Zack! What the hell do you think you're doing? Are you trying to send us all to Davy Jones's Locker?" _

_"Nope! Just you lot!" a cheerful voice yelled back. "And I'm taking the kid with me. What _are_ you guys thinking? It's dishonourable, kidnapping a child!"_

_A shot rang through the air. There was a child-like scream and a dull thud. Silence engulfed the ship. Even the flames seemed to have quieted, almost as if mourning the death of the boy. The mast broke the silence as it creaked warningly. The crew sprang to their feet quickly, and jumped onto their lifeboats. No… Angeal though. No, he can't be dead! He ran through the blaze and the smoke, but he knew he was already too late. The boy was dead. He was too late. _

"Angeal…" the man could feel himself being shaken. He groaned sleepily and swatted the offending hands away from his body.

"Go away," he mumbled sleepily.

"Angeal! Wake up!" the voice yelled.

"Ah!" the previously slumbering man awoke with a start. "Seph! What are you doing here?"

Sephiroth gave a pointed glance in the direction of the clock. Eight thirty…

"Oh…" Angeal breathed. "Um, I think I might have fallen asleep here…"

"Angeal? This isn't like you. Are you sure you don't want to talk to the shrink? I mean, I know you don't like them, but if this case is effecting you like this…"

"I'm fine," Angeal snapped. "Really, I'm fine."

Sephiroth raised his hands in the air in a backing out gesture. "Ok, ok. I didn't say that you weren't. I was just suggesting…"

"Well don't."

There was an awkward silence between them. Angeal turned to the papers on his desk and glared angrily at the names. Genesis Rhapsodos. Zack Fair. Aerith Gainsborough. Tifa Lockhart. Cloud Strife. Wait… Zack Fair. The fuming man's mind went back to his flashback-dream. Someone had shouted out the name 'Zack Fair'. Could this be the same…? No, he shook his head. It couldn't be. Could it?

"This Zack Fair… Was he part of the…" Angeal's voice caught in his throat. "The… _incident_?"

Sephiroth shrugged nonchalantly. "He might be. You want to talk to him?"

The dark haired man nodded. He did not trust himself to talk, not now, when he was caught in the past.

"Ok then," Sephiroth turned to leave. He knew that what his friend needed most at the moment was his privacy. "I'll go and arrange a meeting for the two of you."

Angeal nodded again. The door was shut quietly behind him. The emotions he had masked for the past seven years began to break through his façade. Groaning, he hid his face in his hands. Why now, of all times? Why did he have to break down when he was expected to be _professional_? Sighing, he gave up the battle within him, and allowed himself, for the first time in almost a decade, to mourn the loss of his son.

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><p>I hope you liked reading this! ^^ Please review, and tell me what you thought of it and how I could improve! I can't believe I'm making Angeal so OOC here... Thanks for reading!<p> 


	4. Chapter 3

Hey~! I'm sorry this chapter's so short! I felt like I should keep the ending the way that it was, and I did. Anyhow, please enjoy! ^^

DISCLAIMER: SEE FIRST CHAPTER

WARNING: SHOUNEN-AI (BL)

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><p>Two young men sat in the brightly lit lobby of the police station. The first had spiky sable hair. His striking cerulean eyes were rimmed with red. He looked as if he had spent the entire day crying, and had spared no time to sleep. He clothes were rumpled and seemed hurriedly put on. The second youth seemed no better. His russet hair stuck out at odd angles, giving the impression that he had just recently woken up. His eyes were azure too, but were of the more blue-green variety. The auburn haired boy pressed a tissue to his eyes and leaned on his friend's shoulder, his frame shaking as he cried for what must have been the thousandth time that day. The ebony haired man wrapped his arm around his companion in an attempt to soothe him, despite his own tears, which were threatening to fall.<p>

"Thank you for agreeing to come today," Angeal and Sephiroth approached the duo. Both men wore dark suits.

"Of course," the spiny haired guy said. He extended his hand to the two men standing in front of him, seemingly unfazed by the authority. "Well, shall we get going…?"

Angeal nodded stiffly. "Of course. But well, this is only a really quick question, and um, we can do it here if you want."

"Gen, do you feel up to walking?" the black haired youth whispered to his friend. Genesis promptly shook his head.

"Ok then, shoot," Zack crossed his arms across his chest. "Wait, I'm not going to need a lawyer, am I?"

"No, not at all," Sephiroth quickly spoke. "This has nothing to do with the murder investigation."

"Ok…" Zack said uneasily. "What was it that you wanted to know?"

Angeal sat in the chair next to him and leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. "Seven years ago, a ship sank. There had been a fire onboard, and the crew had escaped on their lifeboats."

A flicker of recognition appeared in Zack's eyes. Both Angeal and Sephiroth saw it. It encouraged the black haired detective to continue.

"On that boat, there had been a child. A three year old boy. Now, among the crew was a guy, who had tried to save the boy. His name was Zack Fair. Now, I'm asking you, not as a detective, but as that boy's father, are you that Zack Fair?"

Zack glanced up, unshed tears brimming in his beautiful sapphire eyes. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes, that was me. Wow, I mean…" he tailed off. "The kid said that his dad had a cool job, but I didn't think… I'm sorry. I couldn't save him. I'm sorry."

Tears were dripping down Zack's face now. He glanced down, as he were ashamed of what had happened years ago. Perhaps he was.

Zack's head jerked up when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Don't be sorry," Angeal whispered. His face was turned away, trying to hide the tears that ran down his face. "You tried your hardest to save him. Thank you.

Zack nodded, unable to say anything. Angeal stood up and grasped his hand tightly. "I swear, we'll…" he stopped as his throat constricted around his words. "We'll find whoever killed your friend."

The boy could only nod again as he watched the two detectives leave and walk to their office. Holding Genesis's shaking body to his own, he smiled. Maybe these detective guys weren't as mean and horrible as they made themselves seem to be.

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><p>I'm so sorry that this chapter's so short! I hope you enjoyed reading this so far. Please leave a review, so I know what you guys think about it and how I can improve my writing! Thanks for reading~!<p> 


	5. Chapter 4

I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in ages! I have no excuses, but I hope you'll forgive me anyway.

For the disclaimer and the warnings, please refer to chapter 1.

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><p>In the cramped office, Sephiroth and Angeal sat, neither one speaking to the other. Angeal had his face in his hands. His shoulders shook as he silently cried. Sephiroth sat with his back toward his friend. He was studying the victim's autopsy report with mild interest. He could almost sense his friend's distress – something, he noted, he could not feel before. Perhaps the change had been forth by the sudden release of the torrent of emotions Angeal had hidden before. Perhaps it was something else.<p>

"Ok, I'm fine…" Angeal staggered to his feet and stood behind Sephiroth, reading the report over the younger man's shoulder. The room was filled with silence again as he perused the page. "Cyanide? Where on earth would a someone get cyanide?"

The silver haired shook his head and shrugged. "I was hoping that you could tell me."

Angeal frowned, his forehead crinkling as he thought. "Well, I'd guess someone who worked at a hospital would be able to get their hands on the stuff. It's used to lower blood pressure in emergencies…"

The duo glanced at one another, a sudden realization glimmering in their eyes. "Gainsborough and Lockhart," they chorused.

Sephiroth leapt out his chair and gripped the doorknob. He spun to face Angeal. "Oh, and Angeal?"

"Yeah?"

"It's good to have you back," the silver haired man grinned, before exiting the room.

Angeal smiled absently. "Yeah, it's good to be back…"

Angeal was inside a well-lit room. The walls were made of an odd, grey plastic. There was a window to the left of the room, where observers could watch the interrogation within. Within the tiny room was a weeping woman with long ebony hair. Her name was Tifa Lockhart, aged 25. She was the heiress of a multi-million dollar fortune and a doctor specializing in heart problems at a prestigious hospital. The latter part made her suspicious. Only… Ever since she was little, she has had a massive – and unrequited – crush on Strife, who was her childhood friend.

"Um, ok, thank you, madam. You may leave now," Angeal clasped his hands together on the table. "Thank you for your time."

No sooner had the tall busty woman left the room had Angeal's silver haired companion entered, a clipboard in his arms and a pen stuck behind his ear.

"Anything significant come up with Gainsborough?" the black haired man asked as his friend closed the door behind him.

"Nope. She said that Lockhart had a crush on the victim. That's about it. What about you?"

"Same thing."

"Great. We're back to square one."

"Um, yeah, pretty much."

As soon as those words left his lips, a woman wearing a smart-looking white suit, holding a clipboard to her chest, entered the room, her high-heels clicking sharply on the cold floor. "Hewley. Crescent. The forensics team came back with something new. You're going to want to know this."

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><p>Thank you for reading, and please review and tell me what you thinkhow I can improve. Thank you!


	6. Chapter 5

For disclaimers, please refer to chapter 1.

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><p>Angeal's blood ran cold when the woman told him the new development. There was no way. He shook his head. People can lie, he reminded himself, but a leopard can never change its spots.<p>

Sephiroth placed a heavy hand on the other man. "I'm sorry, man. They're bringing him in right now. Do you want to…?" His voice trailed off.

"No," came the one word answer. He was so sure that the boy wasn't the murderer. How could he have let himself be sucked into the youth's boyish charm and good acting? Was he fit to be a detective any more?

Sephiroth nodded, seeing the dilemma clouding his friend's eyes. "Ok. I'll go talk to him then."

Angeal merely grunted in reply. He didn't trust his voice anymore. Not really. How could he have let himself be tricked so easily? The boy had seemed to trustworthy, so innocent and pained by the death of his lover. He shook his head. Now was not the time to be making up excuses.

"Sephiroth?" The silver haired man turned around.

"Yes?"

"Count me in. I'll come with you."

The corners of Sephiroth's mouth turned a little. It was a tiny bit, but it was still a smile regardless. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get a confession out of this guy."

"Yeah, let's."

Nobody tricks me and gets away with it, Angeal thought to himself as he joined his friend and partner in the corridor. As he passed the one-way window, he quickly glanced inside. The boy who he'd trusted so easily before sat in the room silently, his bright blue eyes flicking between the table before him and the window. Sephiroth opened the door and gestured for the other man to enter first. Angeal stepped into the room, his eyes hardening at the sight of the suspect.

"Fair," he said slowly. "How are you today?"

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><p>Thank you for reading! Please review, and tell me what you think and how I can improve. Thank you for taking the time to review!<p> 


	7. Chapter 6

For disclaimers, please refer to chp. 1.

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><p>The younger man looked at Angeal, before his gaze turned to Sephiroth, then back to the black haired man. His eyes were full of hurt and betrayal, and it pained the blue eyed man to see it. He was already second-guessing himself. What if it was all a set-up? What if they had set Zack up? He shook his head. Now was not the time to be second-guessing himself. There was more than sufficient evidence to prove that he was the murderer.<p>

"How are you today, Fair?" Angeal sat on one of the cheap plastic chairs and clasped his hands together.

"Angeal, what is this?" the younger man asked without bothering to answer the question. "Why are you accusing me of Cloud's murder?"

Sephiroth lifted up a see-through plastic bag for Zack to see. Inside was a small gold band. "See this? It's your ring, isn't it?"

The twenty-something year old stiffened. "Yeah, so?"

"So," Sephiroth placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. "It was found stuffed into the victim's mouth and down his throat. Any explanations? And remember, everything you say can, and will, be used against you in court."

Zack leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "I want a lawyer."

"Very well," Sephiroth stood up. "Let's go, Angeal."

Angeal got out of his chair and followed his friend out of the room. As he was about to exit the room, he turned around and glanced at the man sitting at the table. He had his arms crossed on his chest and a frown on his face. His eyes were dull, and full of unshed tears. He turned and looked away. Just _looking_ at him and seeing him in such a pitiful state was pulling at his heartstrings.

_I'm becoming an old fool, aren't I?_

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><p>Please tell me what you think of the story so far! Thank you for reading, and please review if you have the time. Thank you!<p> 


	8. Chapter 7

For disclaimers, please refer to chapter 1.

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><p>"Sephiroth," Angeal said as he followed his tall companion out of the interrogation room. "What if… What if he's not lying? What if he was set up?"<p>

Sephiroth spun around. "What if he wasn't set up? Angeal, focus. We don't need any 'what if's."

The dark haired man was stung by the other's biting remarks, but bit his lip and stopped himself from saying so. "Right, I'm sorry."

The silver haired man simply continued walking.

The room was dimply lit, but the man inside refused to turn on the lights. To do so might break his concentration, and that was something he didn't want happening, especially since he was looking for evidence. Evidence to prove Fair's innocence. The younger man's cerulean eyes flashed by him for a moment. They were so beautiful, and he wanted to see them, glazed by… Angeal shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things! He turned back to the photos in his hands. There had to be something. There just _had_ to be!

The next morning, when Sephiroth came into the office, he found the other detective slumped over his desk, fast asleep. He noted the photos and miscellaneous reports that were scattered about the sleeping man, and couldn't help but wonder if he was wrong about Fair. Sighing, he shook his head. He couldn't think things like that. Not until the older man found some _proper_ evidence suggesting that Fair was innocent. He moved closer to the slumbering man, ready to awaken him, but then changed his mind – Angeal must have been awake for most of the night, working really hard to find evidence supporting his theory. He'd let him sleep, just this once.

Angeal yawned as he stretched. He rose from the chair, cracking his back as he went.

"I'd appreciate it if you covered your mouth when you yawn," a disinterested Sephiroth said. "Did you find anything useful?"

"No, but I was thinking, if the killer injected the victim with cyanide, then we should look for a needle. If we find the needle, then we might be able to pull enough DNA off it to identify the murderer!"

"And what if the murderer was wearing gloves…?"

"Then we look for a pair of gloves!"

Sephiroth exhaled. "I guess we could give it a shot…"

"Thank you, Seph! Thank you! I assure you, I'll prove to you, and everyone else, that Fair is not the murderer!"

_He __looks __so __sure, __so __certain __that __Fair __is__not __the __killer, __and __yet__… __And __yet __what __if __he __truly __is __the __murderer? __His __heart, __his __trust __will __all __be __crushed_, Sephiroth though to himself. _For __Angeal__'__s __sake, __I __hope __his __gut __instinct__'__s __right __about __all __this__…_

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><p>Thank you for reading, and please review if you have the time to! I will update before the end of week. I swear!<p>

I'd also like to hear who everyone reckons the murderer is.


	9. Chapter 8

For disclaimer, please check out chapter 1.

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><p>Strife's house was a magnificent place, both inside and out. It was a hybrid between modern and old, convenient and artistic. The mansion was built in layers, each layer representing a new master Strife. There would no longer be any more layers, thought Angeal – Strife had been the last of his line, and had no children. It was a little sad, when one thought about it. The Strife family had owned this estate for such a long time, and now, this mansion estate would be sold to another family. One who'd never truly understand the mansion as well as those who'd lived in it for centuries before them.<p>

"Enough sightseeing, now, let's get to work," Sephiroth said as he stepped into the building.

Angeal followed the tall man into the mansion, his mouth gaping as he was awed by the beauty of the place.

"Hey, Seph, do you reckon Strife enjoyed living in such a big house by himself?" Angeal mused. There was no answer from the argent haired man, who had already left the room and entered the kitchen.

"Seph?" Angeal poked his head into the kitchen. Sephiroth was crouching on the ground, his eyes carefully running across the tiles, searching for something, anything. A finger ran down a barely perceivable mark on the ground.

"Stilettos…" the man whispered to himself. "They wore stilettos, and were in a bit of a panic. They went to the sink…"

Sephiroth stood up and walked to the sink. "What did they do here?"

His eyes scanned across the kitchen bench, looking for a reason as to why the murderer walked to the table.

"The bin," a voice interrupted his concentration. "They threw something into the bin."

Sephiroth turned to face the speaker. "Ah, Angeal. It's possible, I guess. Let's try out that theory, shall we?"

Sephiroth reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. He put his foot on the pedal, opening the bin. Inside was miscellaneous trash – banana peels, apple cores, some chicken bones and a pair of gloves. They were pale, and stood out from the rest of the rubbish.

"Angeal," Sephiroth spun to show the man his findings, "I think we found what we were looking for."

Just as those words left his mouth, there was the sound of a gun firing.

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><p>Thank you for reading! ^^<p>

Please review and tell me what you think of the story and how I could improve my writing.

I wonder... is anyone actually reading this any more?

And also, who do you reckon the murderer is?


	10. Chapter 9

For disclaimer, please check out chp. 1

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><p>Hastily, Sephiroth got a clear zip-up bag from his pockets and put the pair of gloves in it. As he did that, Angeal rushed to the windows, and looked outside. Out on the garden, there were two figures. Both were rather tall and slender, and both looked feminine. One had ebony hair, and the other had brunette hair, making them both rather easy to identify. The ebony haired woman, Tifa, was speaking to Aerith, who was kneeling, one of her hands clutching at her arm.<p>

"It's Lockhart and Gainsborough," Angeal said. "I'll go and-!"

Sephiroth interrupted him. "We'll both go."

Angeal glanced at his companion, before nodding. "Ok."

When they reached the door, they found that they could now hear snatches of the conversation.

"I didn't ask you to kill him!" an angry Tifa yelled. "_You're _the one who told me to poison him!"

Sephiroth and Angeal glanced at one another. Sneakily, Sephiroth reached into his pockets – which always seem to have just what the pair need just when they need it – and pulled out a tape recorder.

"It's been on since we started running down the stairs, don't worry," Sephiroth whispered to the black haired man. "All we need to do is stay quiet now."

Oblivious of what was going on behind closed doors, the two women outside yelled at one another, until finally –

"So what if I killed him? You helped me! That makes you just as guilty as I am!" Aerith shouted.

The two detectives ran from their hiding place and into the cross fire. They had gotten what they needed. Now, all they had to do was defuse the situation between these two volatile women. It was a task that was easier said than done.

"Both of you are under arrest on charge of murder. Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in court," Angeal said as he approached the duo.

"Stay away!" Tifa screamed hysterically. "I'm going to kill her. I'm going to kill this witch for killing Cloud! I loved him, and she killed him. Do you think that's fair?"

Her body was trembling now. Trembling with fear, adrenaline and anger.

Sephiroth walked up to the busty woman. "Please, put your gun on the ground and let us talk like civilized people."

"No, no, no!" Tifa shrieked. A gunshot rang throughout the garden.

Aerith began to fall, slowly, as if someone had pressed a slow-mo button. Angeal's steps were heavy and exaggerated as he rush in to catch the woman.

Suddenly, everything went back to normal. Angeal caught the brunette before she hit the ground, and Sephiroth cuffed Tifa's hands behind her back. Tifa had missed, and Aerith had only been scratched on the cheek by the bullet. The two detectives lead the women to the front of the house, where they all waited for a police car to come.

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><p>Thank you for reading! There's some ZackAngeal in the next chapter, so if you don't like that, please don't read the next chapter when it comes out!

Please read and review and tell me what you think and how I could improve on my writing!


	11. Epilogue

For disclaimers and warnings, please refer to previous chapters.

And now... On to the final chapter of the story~!

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><p>The night sky was dark, and devoid of stars. The streetlamps were on, but they barely lit up any of the streets. It was as if darkness had crept up on the world and was strangling all the light that tried to enter. The moon's pale face was absent – it was a night of the new moon. Everywhere one looked, there was no one in sight, despite the fact that it was a usually busy time of the year. Shop lights were on, yet no one walked the roads, no one was in the shops, looking for presents for their loved ones. Angeal loosened his tie and stepped into his favourite bar, the Red Dragon. He greeted the bartender, a tall quiet man by the name of Vincent, and requested his usual. He looked around the bar, noticing the lack of chatter. There was only one person in the pub beside him – Fair.<p>

"Fair?" Angeal approached the seemingly sleeping individual. His hair was… duller, as if he hadn't bothered to look after himself properly after his lover's murder.

_Perhaps he hasn't_, Angeal thought to himself. It wasn't a rare occurrence for people to stop looking after themselves after someone close to themselves dies.

The younger man stirred at Angeal's voice. "Mmm?"

He rubbed his bleary eyes. "Oh, it's you, detective."

His clothes were rumpled, Angeal noted silently. He had bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in a long while, too. He smelt a little of alcohol, and his hair was all mussy and unkempt.

Angeal took the seat beside the drunk man. "My name is Angeal, not 'detective'."

They sat there in silence for a while, downing a few drinks until the pub closed.

"Fair," Angeal sighed as he dragged the drunk man to his feet. "Get up."

Slowly, the inebriated man rose to his feet and stumbled a few steps, before falling over again.

"Where do you live? I'll drop you off," Angeal hauled Zack to his feet again.

After a few moments, Zack managed a give Angeal his address, before he fell asleep in the detective's arms. Sighing, the taller man got the slumbering guy into his car and drove off.

Zack's house was an apartment in the most expensive part of town. Angeal straightened his suit. He didn't like this place one bit. It was all too showy for the detective, who preferred his frugal life as opposed to an extravagant lifestyle. Zack mumbled in his sleep and sleepily opened an eye.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty," Angeal prodded the tipsy man with his finger. "Come on, Fair. Wake up."

Slowly, the intoxicated man began to awaken. "Detective, where are we…?"

"Your apartment," Angeal let the 'detective' part slide. "Come on, get out of the car. You can sleep in your apartment. I need to get home."

He dragged the drunk Zack into the lift and brought him to his front door.

"Here. Now, where's your keys?"

"Back pocket," came the mumbled reply.

Sighing, Angeal reached into the younger man's back pockets, looking for the keys. He felt the spiky haired man press himself closer to the detective, before embracing him in an awkward sort of hug.

"Warm…"

There was something wet falling onto the front of his shirt. Tears? Zack's shoulders shook. Was he crying?

"Fair, what's wrong?" Angeal tried to look the man in the face, but Zack began to press himself closer to the older man as he did that. "Fair?"

"Thank you," Zack whispered, "for finding the people who killed Cloud."

"That's my job, but you're welcome anyway."

"But why is it that I can't get you out of my head?"

"Huh?" Angeal was dumbstruck. What had he just said?

"I mean, before Cloud… was killed… All I could think about was him, but now, I can't ever stop thinking about you. Have I… fallen in love with you?"

Angeal was silent, but returned the embrace. Was Fair trying to say that he… There was now way! He just drunk, that was all. There was no way that the younger man had feelings for him – he was far too old for him!

"Detective, I-!"

"It's Angeal, not detective," Angeal interrupted the drunk man.

"Angeal, I love you," Zack said. "And I'm not saying this because I'm drunk, either."

"But you're really intoxicated," Angeal noted.

"Yeah, but when I first saw you, my heart began to race really quickly, and then, and then…"

He leaned up and softly kiss Angeal on the lips. "And then I fell in love with you."

Angeal looked away, a light pink tinge upon his cheeks. "But I'm so much older than you…"

"Love knows no bounds," Zack whispered, before pecking the detective on the lips once more.

"You better not be leading me on," the detective looked the younger man in the eyes, his cheeks dusted with pink, "because I think I've fallen in love with you."

Their lips interlocked again.

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><p>Mmm... Now that I think about it, Angeal's a bit OOC, isn't he? *Sigh* I'll try to keep him in character next time. Now that I'm finished writing this story, I'm off to update Witch. There should be a chapter coming out later this week (hopefully...)<p>

Please review and tell me what you thought of the story, and how I can improve next time if there was anything at all that you did not like. Thank you for reading The Strife Murder Case all the way through, and supporting me with reviews, alerts and favourites.

Thank you again for reading this story. I hope you liked it!

~Xescay, XIV~


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